


Adjustments

by Uozumi



Series: I wrote these before series 8 aired because I have no self control [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Natural Disasters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:32:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in “The Time of the Doctor,” Clara and Twelve land on the beach of the Tyrrhenian Sea near Pompeii. The Doctor needs to resupply mercury to the ship and Clara adjusts to the new form of the Doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adjustments

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _Doctor Who_ (2005)  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Caecilius, Tenth Doctor, Twelfth Doctor, Donna Noble, Clara Oswald; take what pairings as you will  
>  **Genre** Alternate Universe/Historical/Scifi  
>  **Rating** PG  
>  **Word Count** 3,729  
>  **Disclaimer** Doctor Who c. BBC  
>  **Summary** After the events in “The Time of the Doctor,” Clara and Twelve land on the beach of the Tyrrhenian Sea near Pompeii. The Doctor needs to resupply mercury to the ship and Clara adjusts to the new form of the Doctor.  
>  **Warning(s)** natural disaster (volcanic eruption, earthquakes), spoilers up through “The Time of the Doctor”  
>  **Notes** This fic wouldn’t leave me alone and this is its third or fourth form. I wanted to elongate it and have the Doctor and Clara run into Jack and then explore a realization I had about “The Day of the Doctor” Clara vs. “The Name of the Doctor” Clara, but I realized that fic needed to be either an open third person fic or a close third person Doctor perspective fic, so if I do write it, I’ll link it to this one as a series on AO3 and give them a series tag on LJ. This fic was written before the series eight premiere, so please keep that in mind if series eight has aired before you read this.

**_Adjustments_ **

Clara had seen this face once before on the news, albeit younger and possibly with a caption about murder and suicide. She could no longer remember the details, but it added to the torrent of fear and sadness coursing through her when the Doctor abruptly transformed. She asked him if he liked the colour of his kidneys, which made her sound daft and she hated sounding like that. Yet, before Clara could figure out something smart to say, something to prove her worth before this owl of a regeneration got too close to her, the TARDIS began to echo Clara’s internal alarm. The TARDIS’ flight path was out of control, something in the space-time continuum disrupting its journey.

The Doctor had not forgotten how to fly the TARDIS, but he needed her to be able to help him fly it with minimal instruction. They both worked along the control panel until the TARDIS crashed onto the ground somewhere, toppling over so the door was now the ceiling. Clara hit the wall so hard that she could feel bruises forming and could not find her voice. 

Once things settled, the Doctor asked from somewhere nearby, “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Clara lied. She helped herself up and observed him, keeping her distance. He was not the Doctor she knew. If she had not seen the Doctor sneeze himself into this form, she would not believe it was still him. “And you?” she asked. 

“I will be,” the Doctor said. He reached out and used the console to pull himself up, moving like a man whose body was alien to himself and stiff with age. The Doctor looked at the instruments in front of him. He turned his head to read the information about the location they landed. “It’s should be safe to breathe out there,” he said. His accent was Scottish and it increased Clara’s worries slightly. It was as though the Doctor she knew had been completely erased. 

Clara felt the twinge of distrust she initially felt with his previous form resurface. She did not let her eyes leave him. She wanted to be aware of what he was up to at all times. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor said. He pushed some buttons and read something from a screen on the console. “We have to go exploring anyway. The mercury is too low to fly the TARDIS.”

“Mercury?” Clara asked. His face was wrinkled and old. She tried to find something that reminded her of the Doctor, her Doctor, who told her minutes ago that he would always remember.

The Doctor stepped back so Clara could read the warning message. It said that mercury levels were at critical levels. It also warned that time travel was not possible. 

“It’s running low without interference this time,” the Doctor said. He undid his shirt cuffs. The suit no longer fit him. He was at least an inch taller. 

“What interfered with it last time?” Clara asked.

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “I did.” He frowned and shook his head. He ran his fingers down along the fabric of his waistcoat. He shivered from what appeared to be cold. “I need five minutes.” He disappeared into the depths of the TARDIS. 

This was not her first time standing on a wall in the TARDIS. The TARDIS seemed to be on stable ground this time. Clara took a moment and ran her fingers along the curve of the console. She let out a breath she did not know she was holding. He was not the Doctor she travelled with, but she did not think he was an immediate threat either. 

The Doctor reappeared dressed in clothing that suited this form. Clara found that it eased some of her worry, though it did not assuage it. The Doctor carefully used the controls on the console to open the TARDIS’ doors. They could hear waves crashing against a beach nearby. They could smell sand and sea. The sun shone through the doors down at them. The Doctor smiled. “Beach holiday,” he said. “Hopefully somewhere we can find the mercury we need.” He began to work his way up to the doors. 

The Doctor pulled himself up with much doing and sat on the doors. He reached down and helped Clara up after him. From their perch on top of the TARDIS, they could see an ancient city in the distance. There was a port down the beach full of merchant vessels. Fishing boats were out at sea. There were also groups of people traveling out of the city; each group appeared to be an entire family transporting what belongings they could. 

“It looks like some kind of evacuation,” Clara said, “but not organized.” It also looked like the majority of people were staying. 

The Doctor stuck the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth and frowned. His eyes narrowed, taking in the families fleeing the city limits and then his gaze turned north and east. “No,” he said in a quiet voice. 

“What is it?” Clara asked. She could feel a growing ominous feeling. 

The Doctor slid off the TARDIS and offered Clara a hand down from her perch. Once they were both standing on the beach, he said, “Welcome to Pompeii in the year 79 CE.”

Clara looked around. She could see it now, the concern of the unknown in people’s faces. Some also seemed to be praying to angered gods. “They’re concerned because Mt. Vesuvius is acting strangely,” she said.

“Yes,” the Doctor said, “Alien spaceships are always strange.” He closed the TARDIS’ doors and started to walk towards Pompeii. The TARDIS landed far enough away from the surf that high tide would not be a problem. Clara hurried after him. “If anyone has mercury, it will be here,” the Doctor said. He slowed and let her walk beside him. His eyes took in everything as they always had in his previous form. His gait was different and his legs were longer. He seemed to be adjusting to walking at a speed comfortable for Clara as she adjusted to keep up with him. They followed a pre-established path from the city to the sea. Everyone they met were going in the opposite direction. No one paid them any mind. The TARDIS was almost three kilometres from Pompeii and once they reached the outskirts of the city, it would likely be another kilometre before they reached the heart of the city. 

About a quarter up the path, Clara asked, “Can you change your appearance at will? Can you change back?” She had a feeling that the answer was likely negative. However, it was a question that Clara had to hear the answer to from the Doctor. 

“I change if I’m in crisis,” the Doctor said. “New face, new hands, new everything.” He put his hands in his pockets, which allowed a more dramatic look. “But, once I’ve changed, I can’t change back.”

Clara nodded, disappointed. They walked in silence together. The silence felt weird to Clara, though her silences with the previous form of the Doctor felt natural. When they reached the city gates, they stopped to rest. Clara kept an eye on the Doctor as she might her grandmother if they were walking long distances together. He seemed to be coping with the journey. The Doctor showed the guards at the gate forged papers. The Doctor was a senator and Clara his ward on their way to Nuceria. It got them into the city. Once inside, the Doctor navigated them through the narrow roads. 

“You seem to know where we’re going,” Clara said. 

“I’ve been here before,” the Doctor said. He reached out and touched her arm before she could walk into the way of a cart coming at them from a perpendicular road at a fast pace. When the cart passed, his hand returned to his side.

The touch reminded Clara of his previous form, but the touch was also different. A few roads later brought them to the market. Seeing the cart reminded the Doctor of something. “We should watch out for me. I can’t know I’m here.” 

“What?” Clara asked. Her eyes scanned the crowd for familiar hair or a familiar fez. 

“Long coat, sandshoes,” the Doctor said. “Very agitated since I still think it’s a volcano.” The Doctor looked about cautiously, his shoulders tensing. He was looking for someone or something, most likely his past self. His eyes shifted to Clara. “It’s too bad it’s not the ides of March or we could take some Mercury from a passing parade.”

He led her down the market road and towards a fruit vendor near a small stall draped in fabric. The Doctor looked around and slipped beneath the fabric. Clara paused and then soon followed. The stall was just small enough for shelves filled with pottery and a TARDIS that looked strangely young, if the TARDIS could look young. 

“That’s the TARDIS,” Clara said. 

The Doctor’s eyes cast about the people around the stall. He dipped the fingers of his right hand into one of the jars discreetly. “Yes, but from a long time ago,” the Doctor said. When he removed his hand from the jar, his fingers were coated in Mercury. 

Clara was about to ask if that was safe when the cloth behind her moved aside swiftly. The Doctors hands slipped into his pockets quickly. Clara looked behind her, but there were no sandshoes, fezzes, or long coats. The person standing in front of them was much more surprising. 

“By Gemini,” Caecilius said. His eyes widened and then looked the Doctor over from head to toe in wonder. “My eyes did not deceive me.”

The Doctor appeared confused. He slipped his hands out of his pockets, careful to make sure his fingers on his right hand were clean. He looked at Clara whose eyes moved between the Doctor and Caecilius curiously. Caecilius looked almost exactly like the Doctor, except younger. He wore appropriate clothing for a merchant of the Roman Empire.

“This is a fortuitous omen,” Caecilius said. “To think I’d meet my twin in the market.” 

It seemed to visibly connect in the Doctor’s brain what his new form must look like. The Doctor smiled, though his smile seemed deliberate and unlike smiles Clara had seen from the Doctor’s previous form. “It’s very fortunate,” the Doctor said. “You must be Lucius Caecilius Iucundus of Pompeii. I’ve heard great things about your quality of marble.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Caecilius said. His attention drifted from the Doctor then to the TARDIS. “What a splendid colour,” Caecilius said. He reached out and touched the wood with great care. “What is it exactly?”

“Modern art,” the Doctor said. “By one of the finest artists in the empire.” He glanced at Clara and he inclined his head, encouraging her to confirm the claim. 

Clara blinked and nodded. “Yes. It’s a limited edition piece. The only one of its kind.” She met the Doctor’s gaze, questioning his motives. The Doctor’s face did not give away what he plotted, though he mouthed something at her that she could not quite read, but was likely a promise to explain later. 

The Doctor turned his attention back to Caecilius. “It would add a modern charm to your receiving room.” He clasped his hands behind his back and straightened his posture. “My business partner runs the fruit stand next to us. He will give you a fair price while my assistant and I prepare this piece for transport.”

Caecilius looked at the fruit vendor and then back at the Doctor. He nodded. “I have an empty cart we can use to take it home,” he said. “I will bring it.” He left the stall to speak with the fruit vendor. 

“Can you do that?” Clara asked. 

“Do what?” The Doctor checked his pocket and then dipped his fingers into the jar of mercury again, emptying the contents into his pockets. He worked quickly, keeping hidden behind the cloth and out of the view of the fruit vendor. 

“Can you sell the TARDIS?” Clara asked. “I thought she was special to you.”

“She is,” the Doctor said, “which is why I’m going to sell her.” He checked the contents of his pocket and then he straightened his jacket. He surveyed Clara’s face. “I have to.” 

Before Clara could ask another question, Caecilius reappeared. He had a cart and horse made for transporting marble. There were no slabs in the cart, but there was ample room for the TARDIS. The TARDIS, in this dimension, weighed as much as its exterior structure implied. It took the Doctor, Clara, and Caecilius to manoeuvre her into the cart. The Doctor and Clara got in the back with the TARDIS so they could help transport the TARDIS from the cart and Caecilius’ home. 

Not long after their journey began, Clara and the Doctor saw a man in sandshoes and a long brown coat dash around a corner. A few paces later, a woman with her ginger hair tied back followed. The Doctor’s lips turned downward with concern. His eyes fixed on Donna Noble, following the glint of the sun along her hair. 

Clara watched Donna and the younger Doctor until they were out of view. Her eyes shifted to the Doctor sitting beside her. He was still watching the spot he last saw Donna. Clara tilted her head. He seemed sad. “Who was she?” Clara asked. 

“A friend,” he said, “from long ago.” 

“You look guilty,” Clara said quietly. She was not sure if Caecilius could hear them or not. She wanted to know what happened to Donna, but she did not know how to ask. 

The Doctor did not acknowledge the observation. He leaned back against the TARDIS. The ride to Caecilius’ home was not long. Caecilius knew exactly where to put the TARDIS and, as the Doctor promised; it did add something to the room oddly enough. The room was like a drawing out of a textbook. Clara almost wanted to stay and see what the rest of the residence was like, but she did not want to get caught up in the eruption or some kind of paradox if the younger Doctor would come here. 

Caecilius stepped back to study his purchase in its place and then he grinned. “Yes, you were right. It’s perfect in this room.” The ground suddenly shook. Caecilius grasped onto the TARDIS. He looked to his guests once the quake subsided. “Will you stay? My wife and daughter should return soon and there will be food.”

“No,” the Doctor said. “We are on business. We wanted to stop by Pompeii to see my business partner on our way to Nuceria.” He looked to the entrance to the property. “I believe I hear two women arriving now. We should go before we overstay.” The Doctor and Clara said their goodbyes to Caecilius. After they passed Caecilius’ wife and daughter, the Doctor’s pace increased. 

Clara jogged after him. “Why are we leaving so quickly?” she asked. 

“I’m coming with Donna,” the Doctor said. “We have a little more than five minutes from that earthquake.” He reached out and took Clara’s hand, helping her along. They found a building nearby to duck behind just in time. 

“Sold the TARDIS. Can you believe it?” the Doctor’s younger self said to Donna as they approached the hiding place on their way to Caecilius’ home. 

“Maybe it’s a sign we’re supposed to stay and help,” Donna said. 

“I told you that we can’t,” the Doctor’s younger self said. “If I could I would, but Mount Vesuvius is a fixed point in time. I can’t stop it.” 

“You could try,” Donna said as her voice faded and the pair moved out of earshot from the hiding place. 

Clara looked at the Doctor standing beside her. “What’s a fixed point in time?”

The Doctor checked that they were out of danger of Donna or his younger self seeing them. Then he stepped out from behind the building and led Clara back into the city so they could get back to the TARDIS. “A fixed point is an event that can’t be changed,” he said. He led them along the edge of the city so that they could conserve time and energy. 

“I thought that time could be rewritten,” Clara said. 

The Doctor paused to let the flow of traffic move naturally on road. He looked down at Clara. “Who told you that?”

“You did,” Clara said. “The other you. The one with the bow tie.”

The Doctor made a face at the notion. “Sometimes there are things that have to happen,” the Doctor said. “If it rains, certain things happen. If it doesn’t rain, other things happen. All of these things build up until the consequences become inescapable. That’s a fixed point. Underneath Vesuvius right now are Pyroviles, who want to remake the earth in Pyrovillia’s image. The only way to stop them is to cause Vesuvius to erupt.” 

Clara might have reached out and taken the Doctor’s hand, but she refrained for now. The earthquakes began to increase and intensify as their journey continued. They stopped to rest underneath doorways to shield their heads from anything that might fall. By the time they reached the beach, the people leaving Pompeii was fewer than when they entered the city. The TARDIS still lay on its back on the beach. The tide was beginning to come in to shore, but the TARDIS was still dry. The Doctor observed and waited for another earthquake to pass before he reached out a hand and snapped his fingers. The TARDIS’ doors opened in response. 

Clara’s eyes widened. She never saw him do such a thing before. The Doctor sat up on the doorframe of the TARDIS and offered her his hands to help her climb up. Clara accepted the help. Once they were both on the TARDIS, they slid down, landing roughly. Clara could feel fresh bruises forming. 

“When we leave, the TARDIS will right itself,” the Doctor said. He moved to the control panel and emptied the contents of his pocket into a container that fed into some tubing. He then began to program in coordinates once the mercury level warning message disappeared. “Grab onto something,” the Doctor said. 

“What about you?” Clara asked. She took hold of the railing nearby carefully. 

“I’ll be fine,” the Doctor said. He threw a switch and the TARDIS began to move. He grabbed onto the console as the TARDIS righted herself and flew away. They landed soon after. 

“Where are we?” Clara asked. She let go of the railing carefully. Her stomach rumbled loudly and she put a hand over it in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“I thought you’d like to see why I sold the TARDIS,” the Doctor said. He pulled out a shelf built into the rim of the console. “Don’t apologize for being hungry. We do have some turkey,” the Doctor said. 

“I’m not getting back to Christmas am I?” Clara asked. She found the oven mittens and retrieved the turkey. It was crisp on the outside and smelled fragrant. The TARDIS had done a better job than her oven at cooking it. 

“I can take you there if you want,” the Doctor said. 

“Claim to be my professor?” Clara asked. 

The Doctor found carving utensils and handed them handle-first to Clara once she placed the turkey on the shelf. “Don’t need a boyfriend now?” he asked. 

Clara snorted and did not answer the question. “I guess it won’t hurt to take a drumstick each.” She studied the turkey for a long moment, uncertain of how to cut it. With a deep breath, she placed the fork into a drumstick and sawed with the knife along the joint edge. She did the same with the other drumstick. She cut the pieces well enough that there would be plenty of meat for both of them. 

The Doctor took the plate Clara offered him. “Come outside,” he said. “We can eat under the stars.”

Clara followed the Doctor out of the TARDIS. They were on a range of hills south of Pompeii. The Doctor sat down on an outcropping and let his legs dangle over the edge. Clara sat beside him, tucking her legs underneath her. 

“Strange spot for a picnic,” she said, “watching lava engulf everyone.” She was too hungry to debate if she should be eating while watching the destruction. She had not eaten since breakfast a few hours before she called the Doctor to help her with Christmas. The Doctor and Clara’s perch was far enough away that the ash did not fall on them and they would be out of range of the pyroclastic flow. 

“Keep watching, the plateau below us,” the Doctor said. He sniffed curiously at the turkey leg. 

“You don’t have to eat it,” Clara said. “It was my first time cooking a turkey.”

“I want to,” the Doctor said, “I think. I can never tell what I will like at first.” 

Clara decided watching the plateau was preferable to watching the destruction. She tasted her turkey leg. The TARDIS cooked it perfectly somehow. She also knew that her seasoning was slightly off, but it was not bad. It was definitely not like some of her soufflés falling flat. 

The Doctor ate his own helping of turkey without complaint. He let his leg bump Clara’s discreetly when they heard the TARDIS faintly from the plateau. 

Clara watched the younger TARDIS materialize. The younger form of the Doctor, Donna, Caecilius, and Caecilius’ family immerged from the TARDIS. All of their attention was on the eruption and the destruction of Pompeii. “You rescued them,” Clara whispered. 

“Because of Donna,” the Doctor whispered back. “This is why we sold the TARDIS.”

Clara finished her turkey. They discarded the bones for animals to find and took the plates back to the TARDIS hurriedly before anyone might spy them on the ledge.

**The End**


End file.
